In Loco Parentis
by Semita Solis
Summary: They say that having a kid changes everything. Incidentally, so does stealing one off the streets of Cartagena. A collection of oneshots exploring Victor Sullivan's crash course in parenting.
1. Touching Base

**Touching Base**

Nathan Drake paused on the doorstep when he noticed that the friendly old woman from next door was waving at him from her yard. The fifteen-year-old didn't quite know what the few residents of the quiet drive thought about their previously childless neighbor suddenly having a kid around, but six months had passed and nobody seemed particularly concerned. Then again, they were likely all too familiar with Victor Sullivan's indiscriminate love life, so they probably assumed he was the accidental consequence of a drunken one-night stand come back to haunt the poor bachelor. Historically, Nate wasn't too fond of being considered an 'accidental' anything, but he figured he could live with the assumption if it kept people from asking too many questions. He smiled brightly and returned the old lady's wave. Then he pushed open the front door and carelessly flung it shut behind him.

"Jesus Christ! Could you be any louder?" Nate peered into the dimly lit house to find Sully glaring at him from the living room. "The hell did I tell you about slamming the damn door?"

One look at the adult's disheveled appearance was enough to determine why his irritated demands had come out sounding more like growls than actual words. He was lying limply on the couch with one leg on the armrest and the other dangling off the side, his hair looked like it had a mind of its own, his clothes were a rumpled mess, and he had that overall pained expression of a man dealing with the aftermath of a _little_ too much alcohol the night before. Nate smirked as he stepped back outside, reentered, and made a show of closing the door behind him with exaggeratedly delicate movements.

"Better?" he asked.

"Wise ass."

The teen returned Sully's unamused frown with a smug grin. Then he noisily kicked off his sneakers and trotted into the living room.

"So what're we watching, old timer?" he asked after he'd plopped into a nearby armchair and registered that the television was quietly playing in the background.

"A goddamn massacre, that's what," Sully grumbled in response.

Nate lifted an eyebrow and turned his head to discover a baseball game underway. The kid didn't know what Sully saw in the most boring sport ever invented, but he also didn't really see what people saw in sports period. He'd always been more of a bookish loner, so he hadn't bothered to participate in many sport-like activities growing up. The closest he'd come in recent memory was when Sully had found his old glove and asked the last time he'd thrown a ball around. The man had looked shocked and dismayed to hear: "Uh, never." And the next thing Nate knew, the glove was in his hands and he was being dragged into the backyard for an old fashioned game of catch. In retrospect, he kind of regretted playing the role of the disinterested teenager because it had actually been kind of fun. After everything he'd been through, it had been nice to do something normal for a change.

Sully groaned in frustration, jarring Nate out of his thoughts. "I can't take this anymore. Hand me the remote, would ya?"

Always eager to stop watching baseball, Nate obediently leaned out of his chair to shuffle through the maps and books that were cluttering the surface of the coffee table. After a preliminary search, it became clear that the remote was not where it belonged. "You sure you're not laying on it?" he asked.

"I might've accidentally kicked it under the couch," Sully responded in a way that indicated he _knew_ he kicked it under the couch, and there was no 'might've' about it.

Nate leaned back in his chair. "Well, that sounds like _your_ problem then."

"Hey, kid," Sully was already prepared with his retort. "Remember that time the cord around your ring snapped, and I had to lower myself into that godforsaken crack in the earth to get it back for you? But don't worry about the remote, I guess. I see how it is."

Accepting that he'd lost that round, Nate slid out of his chair so he could reach his arm under the couch. He didn't have the energy to point out that he'd been perfectly willing to retrieve the ring on his own. Sully was the one who had refused to let him because he was "too skinny" and he'd "be liable to slip all the way to the goddamn underworld or something." The old man could be infuriatingly protective when he wanted to be.

"How long you plannin' on milking that one?"

"As long as it works."

Nate huffed and began his one-armed expedition into the no man's land beneath the couch. At first, his blind grabbing turned up nothing but air and the occasional dust bunny, but just when he was about to give up, his hand closed over something that was decidedly _not_ a remote. He inadvertently froze when his brain registered the mystery item's lacy, stringy qualities. _Oh God._ Despite the voice in his head telling him to abort the mission and run, he slowly retracted his arm. He wasn't so much surprised as he was horrified to find himself clutching somebody's discarded purple thong.

"Uhh, Sully…" Nate sat up and gingerly lifted the undergarment between his thumb and index finger. "You lose somethin'?"

Sullivan craned his neck to see what could've possibly made the kid sound so disturbed. He stared at the scene in front of him as he desperately tried to piece together why a young boy (who still blushed about girls, he might add) was dangling a thong in his face. It took him a shamefully long time, but his brain eventually linked the skimpy material back to the perfect pair of legs he'd slid them down, and he started to grin.

"Well, I'll be damned! We looked all over for that thing!" Sully sat up and snatched it out of Nate's hand. "I don't suppose you know the proper protocol when it comes to returning underwear after a couple weeks, huh?"

The kid wasn't sure if that was a rhetorical question or not, but he answered with a resounding "No." all the same. Then, against his better judgment, he started to think about the question until his mind settled on the 'couple weeks' detail. He was fairly certain he'd been around whenever Sully was during that timeframe, which meant he'd probably also been around when Sully had been entertaining naked company in the middle of the living room. Nate honestly didn't give a shit what Sully did behind closed doors, but the _living room_? Where he could wander in at any moment? He shuddered at the thought.

"Um. Where the hell was I when this was happening?"

Sully appeared to think about it. "Well, you're usually safely tucked away in bed during the wee hours of the morning, so that would be my guess."

"Not always!" Nate cried. "What if I'd gotten up to get a snack?! I do that sometimes, you know! Does this happen a lot? No wait – don't answer that. I don't wanna know. Should I just lock myself in my room until the sun comes up? Am I even safe when the sun is up? I'm not, am I? Oh my God, Sullivan!" He stopped his panicked stream of consciousness when he realized that his mentor was chuckling instead of taking his concerns seriously. "What the hell is wrong with you? I _sit_ on that couch sometimes!"

"You also eat at the kitchen table," Sully felt it necessary to add as he nonchalantly tossed the undergarment onto the coffee table.

" _Sully_!" Nate yelped reproachfully. "What surfaces _haven't_ you defiled?"

"I'd write you a list, but it'd be pretty short."

Nate's lips curled in disgust. "God, you have no shame, do you?"

Sully was about to proudly own up to the accusation, but for some reason Nate's use of the words 'God' and 'shame' in the same sentence struck him with an unexpected thought about the kid's Catholic upbringing and his squeamish reaction to sex. He tilted his head in the boy's direction and voiced the thought aloud.

"Holy shit. I bet the nuns never gave you The Talk." The panic-stricken look that immediately sprung to Nate's face was enough to make Sully laugh outright, but he cringed when doing so reminded him of his current affliction. "Ow. Please don't make me laugh."

"Nothing is funny," Nate informed him without blinking.

" _You_ are. Do me a favor and never grow up. Your whole embarrassed-about-sex thing is kind of adorable."

"I am _not_ embarrassed about it," Nate insisted, but Sully knew better because he couldn't even bring himself to say the word. "I just don't wanna talk about it with _you_. It'd be like talking about it with somebody's perverted dad."

Sully was touched by the latter part of that characterization, but he was careful not to let it show because the kid looked embarrassed about saying it. "Well, good, 'cause that's kinda the point." He was Nate's resident adult, after all, and that made it his responsibility to make sure the kid knew everything he needed in order to safely navigate into adulthood. "'Sides. Getting The Talk is a rite of passage. You missed out."

"Someone sat you down and gave _you_ The Talk?"

"Hell no." Sully snorted at the absurdity of the suggestion. His sex education had mostly consisted of uninformed hearsay during recess because Lord knew Mr. Sullivan couldn't have been bothered to invest that much interest into his son. "And I think you can see exactly how that turned out," he added, gesturing toward the incriminating purple underwear.

"Well, I guarantee I don't need it. I know what does what, and what goes where, and– " Nate stopped listing knowledge when he realized he was getting laughed at again. "Sully. _Please_ don't do this to me," he begged.

"Oh, relax. I'm sure you know _exactly_ how everything works by now." Nate turned bright red at the insinuation. "There are just a few things every young man needs to hear."

"No offense, but that's not reassuring coming from you."

"A fair point, but this has nothing to do with me." Sully paused as he reconsidered that statement. "Actually, scratch that. It does. But not like you're thinking."

"And reminding you about your hangover isn't going to make you stop talking?"

"Sorry, pal."

Nate buried his face in his hands. "Okay, fine," he groaned. "Just get it over with."

Sully was glad Nate wasn't looking at him because now that he had the permission to proceed, he had absolutely no idea what to say. He hadn't exactly expected to be the one to fill some sort of parental role in a kid's life, so he'd never bothered to plan out any important life lessons worth passing on. As far as ill-conceived decisions went this one was probably at the top of the list, but he figured there was no turning back now that he'd insisted.

"Alright, look." Sully rubbed his forehead. "I know I'm the last person qualified to tell you to wait, so I'm not even gonna try. Sure, I'd prefer if you didn't rush into anything, but you're old enough to make that call for yourself. I just want to make sure you go into it at least a little prepared."

Nate lifted his face from his hands to eye the man worriedly.

"So why don't we get obvious out of the way first?" Sully continued with a reassuring smile. "Whatever you decide to do, _always_ wear a goddamn condom. Unless, of course, you _really_ wanna put your little friend at risk, or worse – get some poor girl pregnant. I honestly can't stress this enough. Hell, I'll even leave you a stash under the sink if it'll help. Sex might seem all fun and games – especially when you're young and just figuring things out – but it comes with a lot of responsibility too. You gotta remember that it's not just your life you could ruin by being reckless."

Nate frowned. "Don't worry. I know better than to risk a kid I didn't want." The bitter way he said it gave Sully the impression that the topic had just gotten personal.

"Well, that's a relief 'cause I don't think I could handle any of your spawn running around. One of you is stressful enough," he joked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from anything sensitive. When Nate rewarded him with a weak smile, he went on. "And while we're on the subject of sex not just being about you, don't you dare be one of those guys who can't take a hint. You best learn now that nobody is obligated to sleep with you. Believe me. You'll see plenty more action if you don't act like a complete asshole all the time. And by the same token, don't let anyone pressure you into anything you don't wanna do either. 'No means no' works both ways. I don't give a shit if it's peer pressure or the most attractive girl in the world. If you don't feel safe or comfortable, leave. Simple as that. Don't ever let anyone make you feel like less of a man for walking away."

"Do _you_ ever walk away?"

Sully smirked. "And that's another thing. I'm not exactly a bright and shining example, so don't think you need to be like me or that I'll think any less of you if you aren't. It's your life and that means you get to decide how you wanna live it. I don't care if you sleep around or if one's enough for you – I'll respect your decision either way. Just be responsible, treat people right, and make sure you're doing it because you want to. And believe it or not, kid, there's no rush. You're allowed to grow up at your own pace. Nothing's wrong with enjoying being young and innocent while it lasts. I recommend it, but - like I said - you're old enough to make that call for yourself. Just remember if you ever get in a situation where you need to escape from a bad hookup, all you have to do is call me. I'll swoop right in yelling that you forgot your ointment. That'll do the trick."

The teen made a face. "Note to self: don't call Sully."

"I'm being serious, Nate. I don't care what time it is or where you are. You can always ask me for help if you get into trouble or have any questions. And that goes for anything." Sully gave the kid a pointed look. "I mean it."

Nate ducked his head, appreciating the sentiment more than he could say. After years of dealing with things on his own, it was nice to know that somebody had his back. "Thanks, Sully."

"Sure thing, bud. And I guess while I'm giving essential life advice – no hard drugs, and if I _ever_ catch you drinking and driving, I'll lock you in the attic until you're thirty. We clear?" Sully pretended to be stern, but his heart wasn't in it. Nate was a good kid – especially compared to _him_ at fifteen – and he had a feeling he didn't have to worry about him too much. All the same, he made a mental note to knock on wood the next time he didn't have an audience to call him crazy.

"Yessir." Nate touched his fingers to his forehead in a mock salute.

Sullivan studied the teen's face for a moment before grinning and reaching out to ruffle his shaggy hair. "Alright, kid. Good talk."

"Whoa, wait. That was it?"

"What? Did you think I was gonna give you tips? Dig out the ol' diagrams?" Sully teased, prompting the boy to give him a look that said he wouldn't put it past him. "Sorry, son. Even I draw the line somewhere. There are some things you're just gonna have to learn for yourself."

Nate was so relieved that he didn't notice what Sully called him. "Thank God _._ "

"Now," the man continued as he got himself comfortable again. "This ball game isn't improving any. If you're finally done stalling, why don't you get off your ass and find me that goddamn remote?"

Nate narrowed his eyes. "If I find somebody's long-lost vibrator, I swear to God I'm never helping you look for anything again." He laughed when the ensuing guffaw turned into a pained whimper.

"Ouch. _Shit_. You are killin' me, kid."

* * *

 **A/N** – Hello there! Thanks for taking the time to read my little story! I've got a few more ideas where this came from, but updates will probably be slow at best. In the meantime, though, feel free to let me know what you thought! I'm a bit rusty, so feedback is always welcome. Oh! And I own nothing except my grammar mistakes and my unhealthy obsession with Victor Sullivan. Please don't sue me, Naughty Dog!


	2. Personal Space

**Personal Space**

 **"** Hello? Earth to Nate?" Sully waved a paintbrush in front of the fifteen-year old's face to get his attention. "You still with me, kid?"

"Huh?" Nate jumped, visibly snapping his awareness back to the sunlit bedroom. "You say something?"

"I asked you to hand me that screwdriver," Sully stated, pointing toward the open toolbox on the floor beside Nate's crossed legs. "Y'know, if it wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience or anything."

"Oh. My bad." Nate quickly selected the tool and tossed it over. "There."

"Took ya long enough," the adult replied by way of thanks. "You mind filling me in on where the hell you keep disappearing to?

"What d'ya mean?"

"I _mean_ you've been spacing out on me all day." Sully used the screwdriver to pry open the can of paint that he'd all but twisted Nate's arm into picking out that morning. Getting the astoundingly withdrawn kid's opinion about anything was difficult at the best of times, but when he was acting spacey to boot – it was like pulling teeth. "What's the matter? You getting sick or something?"

"Nah," Nate lifted his shoulders in a dismissive shrug. "Just tired, I guess."

"Right." Somewhere in the few months since meeting the kid, Sully had come to the conclusion that 'I'm tired' was Nate-speak for 'Something's bothering me, but I don't wanna talk about it.' He wished he could cut the crap and demand an explanation before the problem inevitably festered, but he'd also determined (through trial and spectacular error) that doing so was the worst possible way to get answers. Fortunately, he hadn't survived as long as he had in his particular line of work without learning a thing or two about manipulating conversations to get what he wanted. "Maybe you should try sleeping instead of climbing out on the roof every night, you ever think of that?"

The teen's eyes flashed in his direction like he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. "I dunno what you're talking about."

"No? Well, shit. I guess I better call an exterminator 'cause that's an awfully big squirrel I've been hearing on the roof." Sully gave the kid a pointed look. "C'mon, kid. You're not as sneaky as you seem to think you are."

Nate's gaze fell to his lap. "Okay, okay. It's just…" He sighed and picked at the frayed material of his hole-ridden jeans. "Sometimes I can't sleep and feel like I need _air_ , y'know?"

"So naturally you climb out on the roof?" Sully could understand waking up feeling suffocated, but at least he used the goddamn door when he felt compelled to escape into the night.

"I dunno," Nate muttered. "Still not completely used to the whole bein' inside thing, I guess."

"Well, hey," Sully valiantly hid his pity behind a careless shrug. "If it helps, don't let me stop ya." He was honestly scared to wonder how many nights the kid had slept under the stars to get to the point where a roof over his head felt abnormal enough to keep him awake. He was no expert by any stretch of the imagination, but he was pretty damn sure that wasn't the behavior of a well-adjusted adolescent. "Maybe clean out the gutters while you're at it, huh?"

Nate's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, you wish."

Getting the sense that the teenager was getting dangerously close to checking out on him again, Sully decided the best course of action was to give him an occupation to keep his attention. "Here," he said, slapping a wooden paint stirrer into the kid's fidgeting hands. "Why don't you make yourself useful and stir."

Nate scooted a little closer and obediently began to make lazy circles through the thick paint.

"You know, we _really_ don't haveta do this," he said after a moment of silent contemplation. "I'm okay with the room as is."

"But it's so boring in here," Sully replied, gesturing toward the plain white walls that he hadn't bothered to touch when he'd moved into the place. There had been no point in exerting the effort when the room's primary purpose had been storage, but it didn't seem quite right to keep it unfinished now that it was housing an actual person. "Don'tcha want to personalize it a little?"

"Psh, I don't care. Doesn't really seem worth it if you ask me." Nate lifted the stirrer and watched the paint drip back down into the can. "I mean, how long am I even gonna be crashing here?"

Sully decided the time wasn't right to point out that Nate was _living_ there. Not just 'crashing' like some sort of pint-sized drifter. If the fact that the kid was still living out of his duffel was any indication, he probably wasn't ready to declare himself 'home sweet home' just yet.

"That's up to you, chief," he answered, making sure that Nate felt like he was the one in control of the situation. Truth be told, he wasn't about to let him go it alone while he was still a scrawny, buzzy-voiced kid, but he figured he could sidestep some unnecessary conflict by keeping that detail to himself. "Although, I'd prefer if you stuck around at least until you're old enough to get your own place."

"But that's only, like, three years from now," Nate pointed out. "And it's not like we spend most of our time here anyway. It just seems kinda pointless to change up your place just because of me."

"Nate," Sully refrained from sighing. "We've been over this already. This is _your_ room for however long you wanna stick around. As long as it doesn't involve dynamite, I don't give a shit what you do with it." He hated talking like Nate was liable to split at any moment, but that was the only way he knew to keep the teenager calm. It was obvious that the kid was skittish about everything that seemed permanent, and frankly – he could relate. He wasn't one to make long-term commitments either and the fact that he'd broken his own rule by bringing home a goddamn _child_ was enough to keep him awake on a nightly basis. But because he could understand the reluctance to set down roots, something told him that it was important to make sure Nate understood that he could. The trick was figuring out how to accomplish that without scaring him away in the process.

"Look, kid. I promise I didn't suggest this to freak you out. I just wanna make sure you have your own personal corner of the world to escape from it all, you know?" Even though his own home life had been rough, at least he'd always had his room to weather out the storm. There was no way in hell he'd ever give Nate the same reasons to retreat the _he_ had growing up, but he still wanted the kid to experience that same sense of security. Especially because he got the impression that it was a luxury the kid had previously been forced to live without. "You ever even had a room to yourself before?"

Nate didn't look at him. "Not really."

"Well, there you have it," Sully replied, now fully convinced that he was at least on the right track. "I'll bet it's nice finally having your own private place to jack off to your heart's content, huh?"

That got the kid's attention. "Jesus! You are so gross!"

"Oh, please. Tell me I'm wrong," Sully replied with a satisfied grin. Being sincere was so much easier when he hid it behind bad jokes and inappropriate comments.

"You're wrong on so many levels, old man. _God_."

Instead of agreeing or disagreeing, Sully picked up a nearby paintbrush and innocently began to trail it through the paint. "Y'know, pal, I don't quite know how to tell you this, but you got something on your face." Before Nate could even think about dodging out of reach, Sully flicked the brush against his nose, leaving a bright blue spot in its wake.

"Argh! Sully!" Nate growled as he wiped the paint away with the sleeve of his shirt. He shot the man an exasperated look. "Was that necessary?"

"Sure was." Sully picked up a second paintbrush and tossed it to the disgruntled teen. "Now c'mon. We're burnin' daylight here, and this room sure as hell ain't gonna paint itself."

Nate sighed. "Just as long as you know we don't haveta."

"Just as long as _you_ know I _want_ to," Sully's response was immediate.

The teen stared down at the paintbrush in his hands. "Okay, fine," he finally conceded, and both parties did their best to ignore how unsure he sounded. "Where do you wanna start?"

* * *

Sully stood back to examine his work when he finished pressing the last of the glow-in-the-dark-stars to the ceiling. As far as he could tell, Nate was too preoccupied with his haphazard map hanging to notice that he'd gotten more than a little bored and arranged the stars into constellations instead of sticking them up at random. He knew better than to hope that creating a makeshift night sky would stop Nate from feeling like he had to go roof climbing in order to calm down enough to sleep, but he figured it was worth a shot.

"So how'd we do?" He asked as he crossed his arms and surveyed the results of their combined efforts. The room was still depressingly empty as far as personal effects went, but the fresh coat of paint had done wonders to make the space feel less devoid of human life. The blue and gray color scheme that had come together over the past couple days – in addition to the maps and stars scattered throughout – made the room look much more like a place a vibrant and adventurous young teenager would hang out. It was a mission accomplished as far as he was concerned, but he'd let Nate be the final judge.

The boy hopped off the desk chair and trotted over to stand beside his mentor, unconsciously adopting his exact posture. "It's…" he trailed off, unable to identify the right word.

"Homier?" Sully offered, choosing the term deliberately.

Nate looked vaguely perplexed, like it was a foreign concept. "Yeah, I guess. _That_. Who'da thought you knew how to tie a room together?"

"Maybe if the rare antiquity business stops panning out, I should go for interior design, eh?

"Yeah, right," Nate snorted. "That'll be the day." He gave his surroundings another once-over before tilting his head up to look at Sully with a shy smile. "You were right, though. It looks really good in here. Thanks."

"Aw, don't mention it." Sully stooped down to gather the paint-spattered drop cloth from where it had been kicked against a wall. He felt uncomfortable when Nate thanked him for things that most teenagers wouldn't give a second thought. Seeing the timid sincerity in his eyes made it hard not to imagine the worst about the life Nate left behind, and even harder not to wonder if he was capable of providing something better. "Tell ya what," he added, quickly changing the subject to something a little less terrifying. "Why don't you finish up in here while I go see about fixing us some dinner. You got any requests?"

"Hmm." Nate thoughtfully patted his stomach. "Burgers would be pretty good right now."

Sully had been expecting Nate to respond with his typical assertion that he didn't care either way, so the definitive answer was a pleasant surprise. Maybe there was a chance that he wasn't going to have to learn to live with a hopelessly indifferent, half-grown enigma after all. He had no idea how he ended up living in a crazy world where a food order was considered a major victory, but he'd take it.

"Okay, you got it, pal. Couple burgers coming right up." He tucked the drop cloth beneath his arm and headed for the door. "Oh. And, kid," he paused, glancing over his shoulder to look the young boy in the eyes. "You're welcome. Don't ever think that you're not."

* * *

 **A/N** – Hello again! First of all, I just wanna say thank you to everyone for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing. I've never shared my writing online before, so I can't even begin to express how much your feedback means to me! Also, apparently Uncharted 4 came out. (She says as if she wasn't counting down the seconds until the release.) I got a couple new story ideas while playing it, but I don't anticipate that they'll come out for a while. If they do, though, I'll be sure to post a spoiler warning beforehand. But yeah! Thanks again to each and every one of you for all of the support! It honestly means the world to me!


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